It was winter, and therefore, infathomly cold.

Neji was waiting outside on the wooden steps of his house, wrapping the cotton kimono around himself tightly. He could feel the crispy flecks of snow falling onto his cheeks and shoulders, reaching up to wipe a drop caught on his eyelashes.

Silky black hair fell over his shoulders, not a single tangle in them.

"Are you dressed properly, Neji?"

Neji turned his head towards the voice of his father, nodding. He watched blurrily as his father walked down the step and slipped his feet into the sandals. Then, his father brushed past him and started down the icy cobble pathway.

He followed, head lowered, trying not to loose sight of Hiashi's shadow.

Being partially blind, it was hard to follow.

The snow was fresh and soft, and he could feel his sandals softly scrunching as they walked along, taking care not to slip. He could tell they were entering into the local village town, by the market noises around them.

Chicken squawked in their cages, the sound of the meats man knife chopping, the local vendor calling out prices for fish. The air was permeated with the smell of grime, animal, sweat and blood, and every so often Neji would try to avoid being pushed over by a passer.

Then they were walking further in, to the darker part of the town. They veneered around vendors, pressing paper into their hands, offerings from black dealers, the beggars on the sidewalk. Sometimes a scream in the distance, dark glances, the sound of human voices whimpering from a man yelling at them.

Then Hiashi stopped, and luckily, he did in time before he walked into him.


The boy looked up, noticing the little vendor he had stopped at.

Immediately he was hit by the smell of faeces, sweat and dog. He could hear young barking coming from within the store.

Hiashi, his father, placed a hand on his shoulder firmly, guiding him into the vendor. He could hear his father speaking to the other man, but he wasn't listening. He was stumbling in the darkness, feeling something touch his ankle. He shivered.

"Choose one Neji."

His white eyes glanced up at Hiashi, then down into the little box cage they were at.

It was so dark, it took a while for his eyesight to adjust, and he began to see… arms. Pale, fragile limbs.

Then, he could make out that they were boys. Young, naked and covered in filth. Some where sleeping, one was crying in the corner, another was biting his wrist in a feral manner. Neji was shocked and scared. He was supposed to choose one.

But before he could shy away, one of them looked up.

The one in the middle, sitting with his hands between his crotch, looking up at him with light brown eyes. His cheeks were stained with black dirt, and his hair was wild and filthy.

"This one?" Hiashi asked. "He seems healthy enough. We'll have him."

The large man grunted and reached into the box, lifting the small boy easily. There were several scared whimpers, which died away when the boy was chosen. However, the boy was struggling slightly, looking frightened to be taken out the box.

A leash was swiftly taken to his neck and he was dragged outside. The naked boy shivered, looking almost completely black in comparison to the white snow.

Hiashi took out a cotton kimono; similar to the one Neji was wearing, and dressed the boy in it.

They took him home.

Neji learnt that this boy was his guide dog.

Oh yes, a young boy, only a few years younger than him, was given to him as a slave.

He was washed, cleaned and dressed up in a simple cotton kimono, and was given a hiato to wrap around his waist. His hair was finally clean and shone a healthy dark brown, like the chocolate bark of a tree, like his eyes.

Two simple red marks on his cheeks made him a slave.

On the first night he arrived, he slept on Neji's floor, on a small futon. He didn't speak a single word, but he gave a grateful look to Neji when he gave him food and water in a small bowl. The only word he knew was his name.


Neji quickly grew accustomed to Kiba's active personality, even though being a slave, he was prohibited.

Kiba took Neji to the woods, tugging on his sleeve and begging him with his eyes. Neji nodded and let himself be guided to the woods, heart thumping, mind racing. He hardly ever went near the woods, not even when he was with Hiashi.

He inhaled the soft scent of autumn and pine, looking at the trickling streams running through the woods made of tall, tall straight pines.

They played lots of games together.

Fetch was one of his favourite, where he'd pick up a stick and throw it as far as he could, and Kiba would go sprinting off to look for it, his kimono barely covering his thigh's, his bare feet not affecting him as he ran across the forest floor.

He'd run back, smelling of sweat, damp hair, a grin on his face as he proudly gave back the stick to start the game again.

Then when he was tired, Neji would watch him in fascination as he easily discarded the thin kimono and splashed into the stream.

He loved to play in the water, not caring whether he was naked or not. Then he'd climb out to sit next to him on the rocks and brush his hair softly with his fingers. He leant forward and licked his ear, sending a shiver through his body.

Sometimes, on the way back home, Kiba would stop. Neji stopped and watched as Kiba crouched down next to a tree and relieved himself.

One time, the boy would try to persuade Neji to piss with him, and he would shyly comply, pulling down his white underwear and crouching next to the young boy and taking a long piss, blushing furiously from embarrassment. Yet he liked the intimacy.

He didn't tell his father though. Hiashi would be displeased.

It was a few weeks after Kiba had arrived that Neji insisted on him sleeping on the same bed.

"Here," He said, his hand on the bedside next to him. Kiba slowly stood from the futon and obediently went to Neji's side, and even though Neji couldn't see very well, he could most certainly see the way the boy's shirt was too small for him, how it rode up his tummy and revealed his limp boyhood.

Neji slid under the covers with him, and quite naturally, they cuddled.

It was at the middle of the night when he felt Kiba shuffle and wake up. Curious, Neji watched as Kiba slipped out of bed and crouched down next to the bowl on the floor to relieve himself. Kiba wiped himself with his kimono, not knowing better, and quickly climbed back into bed.

Neji felt the damp tip of Kiba's boyhood touch against his leg.

Kiba cocked his head, noticing it as well.

Neji reached down and touched it, curious for his age. His hand moved under the boys shirt and he felt Kiba respond, his own hands sliding down and fondling.

After a few minutes of hushed whimpers and panting, they fell asleep again.

He wanted to do it again.

Oh god yes, he wanted to. Their daily trip to the forest started to become a little less innocent, when Kiba got Neji to strip as well. Kiba taught Neji how to swim. Kiba helped dry his long hair in the sun. When Neji pissed, Kiba was there to hold his boyhood firmly in his hands.

The silky haired boy began to stroke himself off, as he watched Kiba finish pissing against the tree. The faint smell of urine, the taste of sweat from playing fetch earlier on, the cool stream trickling on the side.

Kiba kneeled next to him and took over stroking Neji off, fascinated by how the pale boy writhed and moaned freely.

Then instinctively, the dog boy leant down and slid the prick into his mouth.

Neji gasped at the warm and wet sensation.

Lick. Suck. Stroke.

He couldn't hold himself back when he came, arching off the forest floor, his kimono dirtied, and unable to hold himself back from peeing just after he had came, such were the consequences of youth. Kiba licked it all up.

Spring quickly turned into winter again. It had been almost a half of a year since they had Kiba.

Neji loved Kiba.

He loved how almost every night they'd eagerly go to bed to suck each other off. He loved how Kiba and him played in the streams, played fetch, piss, and touch each other.

It was one warm autumn evening when Neji and Kiba were in the stream, splashing each other.

He laughed, splashing Kiba back with the chilly water. Their boyish bodies dripped with water.

Tired, he began to climb back out of the stream onto the bank on his hands and knee's, not caring whether he scraped them on the dirt. Then something heavy pushed on top of him and he fell onto his arms, giving out a small oomph.

Kiba's wet body slid behind his and they struggled for a moment, with Kiba winning dominance. Slippery. Sweaty.


Kiba's dripping boyhood brushed up hard against Neji's back and they both noticed it. Without a seconds hesitation, Kiba grabbed himself with one hand and eased himself into Neji's hole. The boy almost screamed.

He tried to push the boy off, but he almost weighed the same, and so they struggled for a while on the bank. Neji's body was dirtied from the soil, one cheek pressed into the ground and his hair tangled on his back.

Kiba wiped the hair away and licked his back, moving in and out as if it were the most natural thing to do. And soon, Neji was writhing underneath him again, from the heaviness and the sweat, and the panting next to his ear. He rubbed himself urgently, and they both came, with Kiba spilling his seed inside Neji's tight opening.

Immediately the dog boy pulled out and flopped onto his side, the smell of piss evident.

Neji stroked himself until he was satisfied, then they washed up again and went home.

Hiashi never did find out about it.

He never noticed how the boy's were always together, a little too close for a master and slave relationship, and always usually smelling of sweat. Hiashi thought it was normal for two rowdy boys to play in the sun and get sweaty. He didn't suspect a thing.

Kiba gradually learnt proper speech, and he kept being Neji's guide dog.

When they were older, Kiba no longer needed to wear the leash. But sometimes he did inside Neji's bedroom, and he'd get on his hands and knee's, because it was fun and both of them loved to play with each other.

However, approaching the age of 14, this wasn't to last very long.

It was winter again, and Neji was sitting on the wooden steps with Kiba at his feet. He was dressed in a silky kimono, and his hair was tied back in a sleek pony tail, but he wasn't sure why he was dressed up, with his new shoes on as well.

"Neji," Hiashi said, and the boy quickly got up. Kiba got up too, taking Neji by the hand to guide him as they followed Hiashi down the path.

They came to a stop at a small carriage pulled by two horses.

"Everything is packed and ready," His father said sternly. "You are to leave and study at Konoha's boarding school."

Neji panicked. He gripped Kiba's hand and refused to let go, but Hiashi picked him up from the ground and put him inside the carriage.

"But Kiba…"

"He stays here." And with that, Hiashi closed the door firmly and locked Neji inside.

Kiba blinked, confused at what was going on. But when he saw the horses begin to trot away, he cried out and ran after the carriage. Hiashi held him back.

8 is a prosperous number. It's lucky.

And it was 8 years since Neji had left, and Kiba was sold away to another family.

Kiba grew up normally again: no more cages, no more collar, no more leash. He was brought up to be taught how to speak, write and read properly, and also to do the most basic chores around the house. He even made friends with the others at the local school, although it was never the same as with Neji.

Now, at the age of 20, he worked at a meat shop, like any other young man's job would be.

As for the Hyuuga, he finished his studies as his father wished. And now, after 8 years, he was returning back to the little Konoha village where he had grown up with Kiba.

Kiba was gone. He was grown up. He entered into his father business at the age of 24 and lived life as was planned.

Until he met him again.

He could still get around, despite being half blind, and he often returned to the little town. He wandered down the vendors, the chicken stalls, the fishman barking out prices and the sloppy wet market feeling of the street. All the snow was scraped from the street, a faint drizzle falling down.

He'd walk on, till he turned down the dark alley way he had once came into with his father many years ago. The little shop which he so vividly remembered, selling live human boys and dogs, was gone. All was left was the little cage box, the smell of dirt and urine and isolation.

And when he turned around, he saw him.

Not quite clearly.

His eyesight was blurry, and the snow was swirling around him slowly, but he could tell it was him.

A tall man now, with tanned skin, delicious dark chocolate hair like the bark of an autumn tree, deep soulful eyes.

Kiba had followed him from the market, recognizing his sleek long hair immediately.

After a few seconds of quiet, Kiba took him by the hand and pulled him into a tear stained embrace.

Such were the connections of this strange love.

Emm.. originally was supposed to be a story about Kiba being a pet dog for a blind Neji

and then it sort of turned into a look at how (primal?) instincts worked about love

and now its. bleh. but hope you had fun reading this.

i just had another inspiration for a neji fic (gasp)

xx keiji